Warnings: alternate universe, Feliciano bashing, Lovino depression, character death (Matthew), Matthew/Lovino friendship, Lovino/Antonio love, swearing

Another short little oneshot written in the heat of emotions. It seems I'm only capable of writing those. I by the way love Feliciano. I just needed someone to be the antagonist. But anyway~. I don't own hetalia.

My name is Lovino Vargas and I hate my brother. Why do I hate my own flesh and blood? Because he's a motherfucking asshole, that's why.

When we were little, my brother and I were as close as can be. We did everything together, and told each other everything. We couldn't be separated no matter what. Those were the good old days.

When we went to high school, Feliciano changed. He started seeing all kinds of bastards, bitches and pricks. He got hurt by them time and time again. I comforted him time and time again. I had always known my sensitive fratellino would get himself hurt with his stupid caring about everything and everyone. I had always known, the stoic emotionless me would have to pick up the pieces. But I didn't see this coming.

A month prior to my brother's and my falling out my friend had killed himself. He couldn't take his lonely life any more. And while I didn't show it, I was fucking broken. Feliciano, who had always been bad at reading the mood, kept crying to me about every little thing. Being the weird creature I am, I kept comforting him. But I bitched to him sometimes.

Why did I do that? It's a little known fact that I can't handle pain. Instead, I change my emotions. I hide my pain. I cover it with anger and irritation. And my little brother ought to know that. In our home was the only place I let myself feel these things, so it was noticeable enough. However, that guy is the stupidest, densest, most annoying person ever.

On the night it happened, I had come to Feliciano. Earlier that day, he had hurt me. Hurt me really bad. Another little known fact is that while my brother has always been my number 1, I'm always his number 553 or something. And this hurts me. What happened was just another event in a string of those, but it was the drop that made the bucket overflow. Because now he didn't only not care, but he trusted other people over me. He came to them with his problems. Not me. And that was my reward for always being there for him. Even though my own fucking life lay in pieces. So I came to him.

I told him how much he hurt me. Which is something I rarely do, it's not in my nature. I don't share my pain, I handle it myself. So this was a big thing for me. But my stupid little brother didn't understand. This increased my pain. And as said before, I can't handle that. So I became irritated. He talked back to me, when I started growing bitchy. Apparently "his friends were right". The bastards had been blackmailing me. And he believed them. And that hurt. It hurt so fucking much my heart broke all over again. But it didn't stay at that. He turned our grandfather against me. And I know nonno had always preferred Feliciano over me. That's one of the reasons why I am the way I am. Because I grew up with that pain. But I tried to not let it bother me. Because I would always have my fratellino, and I needed to be strong for him. But now they were both against me, and my life was the most miserable it had ever been. With my 16 years I wasn't old enough to live on my own yet, but after living in that hell for a few months, I started living with my friend Antonio.

Antonio was sent to me by God. I know this for sure, even though I'm not even sure what I believe. He was there for me, chatting on the phone till 2 a.m. whenever I needed it. And then he let me into his house. A year later, he let me into his heart. It took another year for me to do the same. I had always had trust issues. Feliciano made that worse. I couldn't let Toni into my heart, because he would hurt me. But he didn't. He's my angel. He saved me. And I'm glad I trusted and trust him. He brought the spark back into my life.

As you can read, multiple years have passed since my brother's and my falling out. About a year after I left, his friends also left him. He came crying back to me. But as stated at the beginning, I hate him. I'm not sure I'll ever forgive him. Antonio says to give it a rest. He says it'll keep haunting me if I don't forgive my brother. He is my fratellino after all. But I'm not strong enough. Maybe one day. When I get my life sorted out. When I've visited Matthew's grave often enough so that I stop feeling guilty. When Antonio and I move somewhere that holds no bad memories. He's always wanted to go back to Spain. I think I'll follow him. Maybe then I'll be able to forgive my brother. At the moment I don't think so. But we'll see.